by Laurell K. Hamilton
Added by: Robert J. Cra...
Read an excerpt:
...Rafael, the wererat king, was sitting at a table at a restaurant with others of his rodere, his animal group. I knew that the swan king was in St. Louis visiting our local swanmanes. It was as if anyone I had ever fed the ardeur on was suddenly clear in my mind. Face after face, body after body, and I realized that Belle was shifting through them like shuffling a deck of cards. “You have done my bloodline proud, Anita; look at all of them, taste them, feel them,” she said. Jean-Claude undid Asher’s other wrist, and Richard went to him, helped him hold the other man, who was still too lost in afterglow. The moment that Richard wasn’t touching me, the leopard inside me started to run. It would hit the surface of me and burst on my skin in a rush of pain and damage. Belle laughed that musical, slithering, seductive, frightening laugh. Then Jean-Claude touched Richard’s skin, even a small brush and he thrust that coolness, that calmness that Richard had learned from the tigers...
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